


Thank God for the PTO

by star_named_andy



Series: Barduil One-Shots [2]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barduil - Freeform, Disability, Fluff, M/M, Speech Disorders, parent-teacher organization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 14:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4183764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Monday evening Parent-Teacher Organization starts just as any other: boring and tedious, but it ends with a bit of a twist for Thranduil Greenleaf as a new member is introduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank God for the PTO

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Another Monday evening, another Parent-Teacher Organization meeting. Thranduil hated these things; he hated the snacks, he hated most of the people (some were at least tolerable), and he hated the drama most of all, but as the sole guardian of his precious son Legolas, he felt it was his obligation, his _duty_ , to attend every single one to stay in the loop of what was going on at Legolas’ school, even if that meant having to volunteer for ridiculous activities that he really would have rather avoided.

It wasn’t that Thranduil didn’t like any children but his own (okay, that was _slightly_ true); it was more so that he really didn’t have the time to be doing all the PTO asked of it’s members. Thranduil hardly had a schedule that would fit carpooling once a week, chaperoning field trips that always included some kind of crisis, selling magazines and cookies no one wanted for fundraisers, and getting stuck helping with school plays and concerts all while keeping his job and raising a child. Somehow, he’d ended up doing all of those things at one time or another and he dreaded that next he’d be asked to coach a sports team. The very thought of it made him grimace as he advanced toward the meeting room (classroom by day) in the empty, dimly lit school hall.

He was his own boss at _Arda Attire,_ so staying employed wasn’t exactly a problem. It was doing his job _efficiently_ that was a problem, with the PTO always finding a way to slither into his life and screw with his daily routines. Since the passing of his wife, Thranduil had become an extremely organized person to ensure there was always plenty of room for everything, whether it was working at the office, working at home, having family meals, running errands, having quality time with Legolas, and having time to relax for himself at the end of the day. The PTO had been squeezed in somehow, taking up any space Thranduil could possibly spare for dating. Realistically, he could have spent less time working, but being the worry-wart that he was, he was constantly toiling away to save for Legolas’ future. He was beginning to regret ever engaging with the PTO at all, but he had high hopes that his devotion would be cherished later in life, rewarding to both him and his son.

His hope was diminished as he stepped into that dreaded room.

The president of the PTO board stood at the head of the room in front of a marker board and behind a podium (which honestly wasn’t needed, in Thranduil’s opinion – after all, it didn’t even belong to the classroom). Bilbo Baggins was looking as prim and proper as ever, always dressed to the nines, whether he was attending a school event or making a run to the market (Thranduil was always dressed nicely also, but not from choice; he was the frontrunner of a fashion business, so wearing sweatpants that weren’t designer in public wasn’t really an option). Oh, Thranduil had run into him at the market plenty of times and had been roped into things he’d managed to hide from at the meetings. That’s when he decided to go to find a different grocery store.

Thranduil couldn’t despise the sweet, manipulative little man even if he wanted to. The fact of the matter was that Bilbo was bringing the school to new heights and the teachers and parents alike all loved him for it. Bilbo had so many plans, all of them successful; he’d managed to plant initiatives to raise test scores, raise thousands of dollars in funds for new computers, organized a new lunch program, and designed methods to make learning more fun. The guy had endless energy and determination, and Thranduil had to admire that, especially because the reason he was there was for a nephew, not a son. He was his nephew’s legal guardian, but treated him as his own child in every way. Frodo would look back on all of Bilbo’s overachieving efforts one day and thank him, so Thranduil hoped.

The good thoughts about Bilbo flitted away from Thranduil’s mind as he was spotted slipping in later than everyone else, as usual. Bilbo was never one to waste time and always wanted to begin at exactly six thirty, so he shot Thranduil an all too familiar disapproving stare as he sat down and folded his arms and legs. The size of the chair was ridiculous, hardly fit for holding a man of Thranduil’s height. His already bored gaze scanned the room and all the usuals were there.

“We are still waiting on one new member, and since they are new I would like to hold off on starting for just a few more minutes.” Bilbo begin and Thranduil could almost detect a cringe, a twitch in that smile of Bilbo’s at the mention of waiting a few more minutes past six thirty. “So, if you would like to make idle chat with one another or drift to the snack table, feel more than welcome! Also, remember the sign-up sheet for bringing refreshments is always there every meeting. A lot of you have been doing more than your share of the work in bringing in tasty treats for us to indulge in, so let’s everyone try to bring something in every now and then. It’s all about sharing the responsibility, after all.” Bilbo spoke, his tone cheery, but his eyes landing on Thranduil more than once as he rambled on.

The blonde sighed. He hadn’t brought refreshments in a long time, it was true. He’d put something on the sign-up list, but not while there were parents mingling over there. He would wait in silence. It was a form of protest, even though he was there by choice. He was curious about the new member they were all waiting on. Would they be scolded by Bilbo too in passive aggressive ways? And what poor soul would be sucked into their “happy community”?

Bilbo, after five minutes of fidgeting, went to the hall. Thranduil peered at him as he hurried out from his phone where he was sketching some designs for some summer wear with his stylus. He shrugged and went back to his little doodle of an idea and didn’t look up until Bilbo had made a loud entrance back into the room.

“I was notified that we’d be having a new member join us. I figured you may have gotten a little lost, but no worry! Now that you know where the room is, you’ll have a much easier time finding it next meeting. It’s such a joy to have a parent new to the school already taking initiative and joining up with the Parent-Teacher Organization. I’m Bilbo Baggins, by the way, the board president. We’re glad to have you on our team – Bard, was it?” Bilbo said and heads turned, including Thranduil’s. At first his gaze was indifferent, uncaring, but his eyes widened as they soaked in the newest member of the PTO. _Wow_. Maybe this meeting wouldn’t be too dull.

Thranduil tucked his phone away and sat upright, his gaze following the man that Bilbo promenaded to an empty seat very obviously. He didn’t care if he was ogling, not in the slightest. It had been a long time since Thranduil had seen someone so attractive and had actually felt the gnawing urge to do something about it, despite his busy life. It was startling to see someone of such loveliness in a setting like this. Thranduil stared at the fit body under the clothes that clung tight to the man’s form in all the right spots, and his beauteous tan and freckled skin, his loose brunette curls that brushed his shoulders, the dark, rugged patches of hair on his face, his alluring facial structure, his soft hazel eyes, and his shy demeanor.

So gorgeous, so new, so enticing! Thranduil’s mind was rushing with elation, something youthful and wanton tugging at his brain and making him forget all worries and responsibilities. He wanted to spring up and drag the man out right then, take him somewhere worthy of a man so good looking, but somehow the man seemed to fit in. He certainly looked like a dad, a _cute_ dad, his jeans worn and the sleeves of his pink and blue plaid shirt rolled up unevenly.

The man shifted in his seat and smiled at the single mother sitting beside him, who returned the favor kindly. Oh _no_. Not today, Martha, not today, Thranduil thought. He’d been single far longer and would not accept any flirtatious advances from her to spill onto the new member of the PTO. Thranduil was praying that this guy was gay, bisexual, pansexual – somehow attracted to men. His heart was pounding hard against his chest, wanting to jump out of him and run after the man to recite gooey love poems and sing songs. What a feeling, and he hadn’t even spoke to the brunette yet! He was going to, he planned on it, but as those hazel eyes connected to his, he wasn’t so sure. _Dear god_. He was blessed with a coy smile and a small wave before the brunette turned away and opened up a notebook. A _notebook_. How precious! He was going to take notes! Thranduil wanted to scream with happiness!

“Everyone, this is our new member, Bard Bowman.” Bilbo announced, waving his arm toward the handsome man who had just waltzed into the room and stolen Thranduil’s heart. Bard stuck his arm up, indicating that he was who Bilbo was referring to (as if no one already knew). “He’s new to the district, as are his children. Let’s all be sure to give him a warm welcome. Now that all of the members are finally here, we can begin.” Bilbo stated before gesturing to the board where a bulleted list was written neatly in cursive. “Topics of discussion today are: potential change in arrival and dismissal times, a possible bullying prevention seminar, the book drive, and the intersex baseball team.”

Everything coming out of Bilbo’s mouth was pure fuzz. Thranduil wasn’t staring anymore, but he definitely kept eyeing the new member, half wanting to make sure Miss Martha Grabby-Hands wasn’t pulling anything, and half just indulging his own swooning. He only tuned in when he heard mention of book drive volunteers. Of all of the things volunteers would be needed for soon, that was what Thranduil was willing to do, since participating in the anti-bullying seminar and coaching the baseball team (which suddenly needed a new coach) were both out of the question completely. After he’d raised his hand and signed away another part of his soul to the evil that was the PTO, he continued to zone back out, wondering what he would say to the brunette. Would he start casual? With a compliment? Would he come off strong, or hold off until he got a feel of the man’s personality? Would he offer his number? Or would he just chicken out all together?

“That brings us to our newest dilemma, the baseball team. As most of you know, my husband, Thorin, will not be able to coach this season due to his most recent knee surgery. With the season fast approaching, we need to find someone to replace him that is willing to commit. Someone with experience would be much preferred and most recommended, since they’ll need to teach the kids and all. I personally believe it should be someone already within our close-knit community; molding the minds of our young students is a job that should be taken by someone who really cares and who can really give their all. Thranduil, I’m guessing you’re not a consideration?”

Thranduil blinked as his name was mentioned and there were a few snickers around the room, but Thranduil simply provided an insincere hum of a chuckle and then rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t think so.” Bilbo chuckled. “Do we have any volunteers here?”

After a moment of murmuring, a hand slowly crept into the air. It was Bard, the poor thing. With how bashful he seemed to be, Thranduil was genuinely hoping that he didn’t feel obligated to volunteer for such a hefty task as coaching a children’s sports team. Bilbo’s cheeks lit up with giddiness and he lifted his pen.

“Oh, Bard! Already volunteering on your first day! What a contributor! Do you have any experience with coaching or baseball?” Bard nodded mutely in response. He adjusted uneasily, noticing all eyes sitting on him expectantly for more of an explanation. Bilbo took the signal from the crowd and pressed for more information. “What kind of experience do you have, exactly?”

There was a long, tense, and dry pause before Bard showed any sign of replying, clearing his throat and then sitting up a little with his notebook balancing on his lap.

“I used to p-p-play b-b- _ba_ seb-b-ba-a- _all_ pro-professionally. M-m-m-my-my son a-a-al-also p-pla-plays. We p-play at h-h-h-home and I think him joining the t-te-team and having m-me there would b-b- _be_ a good way of ma-making him com-m-forta-b-b-ble with the new sc-school.” Bard spoke, his incessant stuttering sounding robotic.

Everyone was dead silent, exchanging scrutinizing looks all around the room. Thranduil was more curious than anything; was the new guy really so nervous? It was quite endearing, but seeing Bard’s expression caused his heart to ache. He looked miserable, and Thranduil wished for him not to feel so scared to the extent of stammering so profusely. Bard sunk back into his chair, his cheeks burning with a red glow, and Bilbo beamed.

“Well, that’s wonderful! I think we’ve found ourselves a new coach! As long as you’re willing to ‘step up to the plate’, Bard, it’s official!”

“I’ll help.” Thranduil spoke up stupidly.

All the attention in the room diverted to him, many shocked that Thranduil Greenleaf _actually_ willingly offered to do something. Bilbo’s brows raised, but he didn’t complain one bit as he wagged his pen at Thranduil.

“Alright, but once your name is on the paper, it’s final.” He warned and then started scribbling on his paper. “Thranduil Greenleaf, assistant baseball coach.”

_What had he done?_

The meeting was soon wrapped up and Thranduil’s thoughts of jotting his name on the refreshment sign-up list vanished as he saw Bard spring up and beeline to the door, head down and notebook clutched tight to his side. Thranduil nearly fell over the empty line of chairs around him (which was very uncharacteristic of him) to catch the runaway brunette in the hall.

“Hello!” Thranduil greeted loudly and immediately cursed himself internally for it, seeing Bard jump and spin around with wide eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to catch you before I had to chase you down…that sounds a lot creepier than I intended. I’m not creepy, I assure you…maybe that would be more believable if I hadn’t just said that. Makes me seem more guilty, doesn’t it?” Thranduil sighed, utterly appalled by himself, but was assured by Bard’s softening expression and his small laughter. Thranduil offered a smile. “I just wanted to apologize in advance because I know nothing about baseball and I just agreed to be your assistant coach.”

“Why d-di-did y—y-you volunteer, then?” Bard questioned quietly, a brow raised, a nervous smile forming on his lips, and his cheeks enflaming deep crimson once again.

“Would you judge me if I said it was because you’re beautiful?”

“I w-w-w-wouldn’t j-judge you, I just m-m-might not be-believe you.” Bard joked.

“You don’t have to be so nervous. None of us bite, not even Bilbo.” Thranduil said and Bard shifted his weight to one side and shrugged, his eyes floating away from Thranduil.

“You m-m-mean m-my s-s-s-s-st-st- _st_ -”

“Stutter?”

“It’s not b-because I’m nervous; it’s the s-s-st- _stutter_ that m-makes m-me nervous. I used to p-play b-b-baseb-ball and got hit in th-the throat. It d-d- _d_ - _damaged_ m-my vocal chords p-permanently, so I a-a-always s-sound like this. P-People always look at m-m-me funny, which m-ma-makes it w-w-w- _worse_.”

Thranduil’s face turned stark white and his mouth dropped open. Bard only smiled at him and Thranduil’s horrified apology came spilling out.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I didn’t mean to offend you, god, I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

“It’s fine. You w-were just b-b-being nice. Is that w-w-why you volunteered to help, b-b-be-because you thought I was nervous? Or b-because you think I’m ‘b-b-beautiful’?”

“Both.” Thranduil admitted and Bard bowed his head, this time from a different kind of shyness.

“You can’t b-be serious!” he boomed, a chuckle weaving through his words as he tucked a stray ringlet behind his ear. An instant fear settled in Thranduil’s stomach.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were…if you…”

“N-No, I am attracted to m-m-men. You’re j-just so st-s-s- _stunning_ , really. Why wo-would someone like you b-be interested in someone like me with a d-disabil-bil-ity? You d-do-don’t have to feel s-s-sorry for m-me.”

“You think your stutter could distract me from how attractive you are? I do feel sorry for you; it’s a shame what happened to you, but that’s not why I’m asking you out.”

“You’re a-a-a-a- _as_ king m-m-me out?”

“Well, of course. Who else is going to teach me how to be a baseball coach?”

“I’m…I-I’m g-going to say yes for the hell of it, b-b-be-be-because I would b-be st-stupid to say no to you. I hope your p-personality m-m-matches your app-p- _pear_ ance, or I’ll be very disapp-p-pointed.”

“If you let me take you out, I’ll show you if it does, and I promise not to disappoint.”

Bard gave Thranduil the up down and the blonde was sure Bard liked what he saw standing before him. Thranduil felt proud, excited, even! This fine specimen of a man was actually considering him. Bard bit down on his lip thoughtfully, making Thranduil want to scream and kiss him right then. The brunette opened up his notebook and scrawled a combination of numbers on the corner of his notepad paper and ripped it off. He held it up and then shook his head with a grin before handing it over to Thranduil.

“You c-can c-c-call me, _Thranduil_.” Bard said, putting extra emphasis on the blonde’s name to get it out right smoothly with no stuttering.

“Thank you.” Thranduil said, feeling a little dumb for saying such a thing, but he was honestly grateful for such a gift. This token, in Thranduil’s mind, meant they would be seeing each other again away from the baseball field. His silly thankfulness made Bard smile and Thranduil smiled in return. Thranduil stood in the hall, happy as a teen, as he watched Bard make a swift exit. He couldn’t wait to see this man again.

Thank god for the PTO.

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing was actually inspired by an America's Got Talent act I saw, where a young comedian who had been a softball player had his vocal chords damaged by an accident, but he was as cute as ever and his perseverance was inspiring. So, I just made this thing and hope you enjoyed the fluffiness! Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
